


Compromised

by wildwordwomyn



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Blow Jobs, Erotica, M/M, No Plot/Plotless, Praise Kink, Rope Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-01 21:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14529915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildwordwomyn/pseuds/wildwordwomyn
Summary: Let's step into a scene with John and Harold, shall we?





	Compromised

**Author's Note:**

> Note #1: Totally consensual bondage scene between Harold and John. John reflects on dominance and submission, on owning and being owned. And Harold? Well, Harold lets himself own and be owned as well.
> 
> Note #2: I missed this pairing so I wrote smut. Yeah, I know. I don't know where this came from either... I would ask if the story sucks but that's probably not the best word to use due to what happens in it...
> 
> Note #3: I'm not a practitioner of bondage or dominant play so I'm probably missing some facts that should be included. Just like there should probably be some type of aftercare after their scene but I didn't think about that until after I posted. Forgive me?

“Would you like to be very good for me, John?” Harold asks softly, calmly. As if the question has no consequence. As if the answer is a choice.

 

John looks up at Harold from his kneeling position. His legs are a little tired, as are his arms. It makes sense though. His arms have been tied up while he grips each wrist behind his back. His legs are tied up as well, pressed together. Not too tight, of course. Harold doesn’t want him to be uncomfortable. That’s not the point. This exercise is one of self-control. Of trust. It’s the same reason John is not allowed to talk except to use the safe word.

 

“Answer me, John.” Harold grips his chin, forcing him to look at Harold, to let him see his eyes. “Would you?”

 

He could indicate in the negative and Harold would be able to tell. But the truth is he wants to be good, craves it. John opens his mouth slowly, his eyelids lowering slightly. HIs pupils dilate visibly when Harold smiles and slides his erection between John’s lips, feeding it to him inch by inch. 

 

“Good,” Harold murmurs. John hums. He wants to choke on Harold, on the solid, undeniable heat of him, would even beg for more if he thought it would do any good. It won’t. He’s learned from experience that Harold never hurts him intentionally, especially not in ways reminiscent of John’s tortured past. Instead John keeps his throat open and his lips loose, waiting patiently. “Suck,” Harold requests, then sighs when John does. He watches Harold for any signs of displeasure, always tuned into to the older man. “Stop.”

 

Harold caresses his jaw, tracing himself through the stretched skin of John’s cheek. He pulls out to the tip slowly, so slowly John can’t help trying to follow the movement. When Harold pauses John stills. He’s done this before, wanted too much, pushed too hard. Harold goes at his own pace. Always. John forgets sometimes and gets caught up in his own desire. Never enough to cause harm, but. Harold pushes back in, then slides all the way out, then back in again. This time he fills John’s throat aggressively, hard and sure and fierce.

 

“Suck,” he repeats, his voice raspier as he stares down at John.

 

John sucks as much as he can handle, swallowing around Harold, grateful for his non-existent gag reflex. Harold tastes so damn delicious John’s mind empties of anything but him. It’s a submissive act. At least most people believe it to be. John sees it differently. Down on his knees, with his mouth open, receiving wields a power all its own. He owns Harold in this moment as easily as Harold owns him. And he won’t stop no matter how shallow his breathing has become.

 

Harold moans quietly. He can be louder, has been louder, but tonight is about John and the sounds he makes are secondary. “Now, Mr. Reese,” he tells John before pulling back until only the tip remains. When he starts to come John whimpers and drinks him in. He loves when Harold is inside him, by whatever means necessary. Each drop winds its way through him quickly like a bullet, hitting its mark.

 

“So good. So very good, John. My beautiful man.” John licks him clean, then releases him. He blinks. Harold smiles once more. “Should I untie you now?” The ex-agent shakes his head minutely, afraid of returning to the present. The bubble of safety they’ve created is intoxicating, addictive. “Come now, John, don’t you want to keep being good for me?”

 

A sigh later John is cut loose from the ropes holding him. Taking a second to shake some of the residual tension from his arms and legs, he shuffles Harold into bed and curls around him. Harold pets him tenderly, lingering on his chest when John purrs his contentment. Harold continues to pet lower and lower, until he shudders and comes himself.

 

“...Good, John. Good boy.” And that? Right there? Is somehow everything John hates, and needs, to hear. Another shudder skips down his spine as the indulgent tone pierces his heart. “Do you think a kiss would be too much for you?”

 

John Reese is a murderer, a torturer, a liar and a thief. He is not a good man. He never really was. He recognizes that about himself. Harold argues otherwise on a daily basis, which in and of itself, is something extraordinary. Both a truth and a fabrication. And not enough to make him refuse such a simple request. He leans up to kiss Harold gently, lovingly, pouring everything he is into it, giving all he has to the one person who sees all of him and loves him still.

 

“Anything you ask of me is never too much, Harold…,” John says, the words, and their meaning, all that Harold deserves and more. 


End file.
